Just A Day
by evieeden
Summary: Natasha is the only one who understands Tony. Advent fic for 10th December.


**Apologies for the lateness of this advent fic and happy 10** **th** **December. I'm currently running a day behind due to exhaustion, but hopefully will catch up over the weekend. Anyway, I hope you like this random slice of Tony and Natasha and thanks for reading. As always, I own nothing to do with Marvel.**

 **J: Just a Day - Feeder**

 **Just A Day**

The sound of crashing and rock music reached Natasha as the elevator doors opened at the level of Tony's workshop. The two levels directly above and below Tony's were empty – Bruce was back in India temporarily on some sort of meditation break and Jane Foster was currently in London again with her assistant, studying the after effects of the convergence on Greenwich's physical plane.

It was no wonder nobody had complained yet.

All the other scientists in Stark Tower who might ventured this far up in the building were out for the weekend and very few of them even ventured into Tony's lab in the first place.

The building was eerily empty apart from the office and shop workers downstairs who helped keep Stark Industries running twenty-four-seven and its erstwhile owner. She'd only got back herself last night after sweeping through Colombia, following one of Steve's leads for the Winter Soldier.

She walked along the white corridor, careful to keep her footprints silent, and peered warily around the sliding door when Jarvis helpfully opened it, taking in the contents of the room in a quick sweep. She could have entered unaided – for some reason, Tony had never rescinded the access to his business and mainframes that she had held during her short time as his personal assistant – but Jarvis was the one who had called her down here, interrupting her workout to ask if she would mind checking in on 'Sir' as he seemed to be troubled.

She could have said no, wanted to, in fact, but even though it had been a long time since she had shown up in Stark Industries pretending to be 'Natalie from Legal' who was Tony Stark's new PA, she felt oddly responsible for him.

It was strange considering he was a grown man, but she felt oddly maternal towards him, as he stumbled loudly from obnoxiousness to confused man to vulnerable child. He was annoying, but he was harmless, and she knew more than most that he meant well, no matter his foibles.

Tony was in the centre of his lab, two suits in front of him, their shells peeled back to reveal the electronics inside them. A third suit was lying on the floor in pieces about three feet away from where he was working and the metal on a fourth was scorched. On one of the benches nearby was a practically empty bottle of whisky, a broken glass next to it.

Stark himself was a mess.

Coated in oil and flecks of metal, he was waving a soldering iron around as he argued with the recently-rebuilt Dum-E over a fire extinguisher. A large burn shone pink and raw against the tanned skin of his arm and his hair was sticking up all over the place.

As she watched, he pushed his goggles up impatiently revealing dark circles under his eyes.

Natasha slid back out of sight into the corridor again. "Jarvis, how long has Stark been in his lab?"

The AI's reply was immediate. "Sir, has been working for the last 32 hours and has been awake for the last 34. He has ignored my earlier suggestion that he get some rest and has continued to work."

"And Pepper?"

"Miss Potts left for California approximately 33 hours ago."

Natasha pushed her hair back behind her ears. She almost didn't want to ask the next question, certain she knew the answer already from what she had observed.

"And is Miss Potts going be residing in the tower from now on?"

There was a noticeable pause before Jarvis answered and when he did, his voice was hushed and apologetic. "I do not believe so, no."

"Right." Natasha thudded her head back against a brick wall.

That explained everything.

The strained smiles between the pair the last time she visited the tower, the barely concealed fear on Pepper's face every time something to do with the Avengers was mentioned, the way she flinched when Tony touched her casually and the way his face fell every time.

Bracing herself for Stark's pointed humour, she was surprised when he didn't say anything as she strolled into the lab, very careful to give nothing away. He glanced briefly at her and then tossed the soldering iron away and replaced it in his hands with a pair of forceps and a large hammer that he used to beat a sheet of metal into shape.

"Stark."

He ignored her.

"Stark…" She sighed heavily. "Tony!"

He kept his eyes fixedly on his work, although the metal he was hitting was fast becoming unrecognisable.

Natasha tried to make her voice a little softer…kinder.

"Tony, you need to sleep. You're going to hurt yourself if you don't."

His arm shot out, tossing the crumpled metal to one side. It was only her training that kept her from jumping at the sudden movement and loud clatter that followed.

"You're already hurt," she tried again. "Come and sit down and I'll treat that for you." Natasha gestured towards his burnt arm.

Tony paused, but then shook his head. "You're not the boss of me. You can't tell me what to do," he stated petulantly.

God spare her from idiot billionaires.

"Okay, whatever."

Grabbing the tools from his hands, she gripped one arm and twisted the other behind his back before starting to tow him out of the workshop and towards the elevator. Surprisingly, after a token protest, he followed her blindly.

"Jarvis, shut down this floor for the next twelve hours please," she ordered.

"Of course, Agent Romanov."

Tony grumbled in her ear, but didn't say anything.

When they reached the penthouse, he tried to head for the bar, but Natasha steered him ably towards his bedroom. She finally released his arms and then pulling his shirt off.

Tony leered down at her, but it wasn't a very convincing effort.

"Come on. Sit." She pushed him backwards until he was sat on the bed and then quickly retrieved a first aid kit and a wash cloth from the bathroom.

Tossing the cloth at him with an instruction to clean up, she began to treat his burn, ignoring the half-threats, grumbles and flirting that he alternated between.

Once he was semi-clean and she had smeared salve all over the wound, she pushed him back again so he was laying flat on the bed. He sighed at the action and it seemed that in that moment all the fight drained out of his body, leaving just a sad, heartbroken man in its place.

Natasha wasn't used to seeing him like this – she was much more used to him covering up his emotions in one-liners and flirting – but it reminded her oddly of the look he had given her the night of his birthday when he thought that he was dying and it would be the last party he ever had.

She sat down on the bed next to him and didn't question it when he immediately curled around her body, his head resting in her lap. Instead, she just began running her fingers through his hair gently. For all his wealth, comfort and privilege, Tony Stark hadn't had much opportunity in life to be soft either, so she couldn't begrudge him for his actions.

"When did she leave?" she broached gently.

Tony tensed, but then forcibly relaxed his muscles. "Yesterday morning." He paused. "A year ago."

She nodded even though he couldn't see her. "Killian?"

He snuffled and pressed his nose against her knee. "I thought it would be enough – destroying the suits, getting the operation…" His hand came up to rub at his chest. "But she was scared, so scared all the time, even before… when I first created the suit. And then after, with New York and then the attack at the beach house, the Extremis…"

Natasha nodded. Pepper Potts was many things – brave, competent and a force to be reckoned with – but she wasn't a fighter or a risk taker. She deeply admired the woman, but it was as if she didn't have that extra switch that she or Tony or Clint or Steve or Bruce or Thor did. That little piece of knowledge and recklessness that told them they could win the fight if they just threw themselves into it blindly.

"She walked away."

"Not at first," he confirmed. "But it was hurting her, staying with me. She wasn't happy anymore. So I asked her to walk away. He hesitated. "We're still friend though. She's been one of my best friends for so long… I didn't want to lose that."

Natasha continued her gentle movements, lulling him into a quiet stupor. "And yesterday morning?" she prompted.

Tony sighed and wiggled closer to her. "She's gone back to Malibu. It's safer – safer to be away from here."

She couldn't argue with that. Any new attacks seemed to be targeted at the Avengers and the further away from them their loved ones were, the safer they would be.

Tony yawned suddenly. Her fingers repetitive stroking and soft voice lulling him into an exhausted daze.

"You should get some rest," she told him quietly.

He lifted himself drunkenly out of her lap and then shuffled backwards before collapsing on the pillow, still on top of the sheets.

She rolled her eyes at him and quickly and efficiently stripped him of his shoes and his jeans, ignoring the suggestive eyebrow he raised when she went for his belt buckle. Yanking the covers over him, Natasha turned to leave.

A hand on her wrist stopped her.

Tony stared up at her plaintively, his eyes half-closed already. "I… Natasha… will you stay with me."

She frowned.

"Not like that," he rushed to reassure her. "Just… just for the company."

She sighed heavily, but it was more for good measure than anything else and Tony rewarded her with a childlike grin. Kicking her boots off, she climbed over onto the bed and lay down next to him, tugging the sheet over both of them and ignoring him when he immediately scooted down to rest his head on her stomach.

His fingers drummed on the side of her hip as she resumed her hand's movement through his hair.

"Thank you, Natasha." His words were barely audible.

It made her smile. "You're welcome."

They slept.


End file.
